‘If I get even the slightest hint that you’re more trouble than you’re worth, you will be returned to Shadow Gulf.’ And those were the words that played over and over in my head as I poured myself a mug of coffee from the faculty lounge pot, reminding myself exactly why getting involved with Elijah would only lead to disaster. It didn’t matter how quickly my pulse raced when he was near, how something deep within me stirred whenever he looked at me. I couldn’t afford to let myself be swayed—not by his presence, not by the warmth curling in my stomach when I thought of him, nor by the sparks that sizzled between us whenever our eyes met. My mind drifted to that moment in the office just hours ago. I could almost feel the brush of his hand against mine. What was this between us, exactly? Attraction? Lust? Maybe I would be able to tell the difference if I had actually, properly experienced both emotions before. “Hey!” A cheerful voice yanked me out of my thoughts. I jumped
“Mr. North, I’m quite worried about you,” Dean Smith said, his round face squeezed into what he clearly thought was a concerned expression. He glanced down at the notes in front of him, shook his head, then looked back up. “Your grades have been slipping, your participation in class has plummeted, and recently, your coach mentioned that you’ve been missing practice.” I barely heard him. My gaze drifted past his face to the large window behind him, and I tipped my head slightly to the side. “I’ve been occupied.” With drugs and my own self-destructive behavior, but occupied nonetheless. “I’m aware,” he cleared his throat. “I was informed that your succession training would be starting earlier than scheduled, and I understand that balancing that with school isn’t easy—” “It isn’t,” I cut in flatly. “I’m aware,” he repeated, though he sounded unsure of his own words. He cleared his throat again. I might’ve felt bad for being so short with him if I hadn’t seen him grinning ear
“Thank you, Dean Smith,” I said with a smile. The man gave me a dismissive wave as I shut the door behind me. The moment I was out of his sight, my smile faded, and I became acutely aware of the envelope tucked inside the folder he had given me. I moved swiftly, slipping away from the main hallway until I found a quiet corner. With quick, precise movements, I tore the envelope open. Two items slid into my palm. A card detailing a dress code and a name. And a letter. I scanned the card briefly before turning my attention to the letter, expecting Victor to finally call in his debt. Instead, it was a dinner invitation—blunt and to the point. I was to be at his house on Saturday at 6 p.m., no later. There was no mention of who else would be there or the purpose of the dinner. Just the summons. I exhaled sharply and leaned against the wall, falling into the same stance I had found Elijah in just an hour ago. Elijah. I thought back to the way he had looked—shoulders tense, breath
As much as I would have loved to ignore Victor’s dinner invitation, I knew better than to test the Alpha’s patience. So, at 4 p.m. on Saturday, I got dressed and went to the address printed on the back of the card. It was a boutique. Just from the name alone, I could tell it was the kind of place I would have been able to afford in my past life—but certainly not in this one. So, I walked in without a sense of wonder and gave the woman at the front desk the name written on the card. She quickly directed me to a private dressing room tucked away in the farthest corner of the boutique, and within minutes, they got to work. My hair was styled into an elaborate updo, my face dusted with makeup and some kind of powder that made my skin glow. Then, they spritzed me with perfume before slipping me into a black dress, paired with matching black heels and earrings made of shiny black diamonds. By the time they were done, I barely recognized myself. The stylists seemed pleased, mistaking th
“I’m sure most of you at this table are acquainted with Professor Monroe by now?” Victor spoke, his voice laced with an emotion I couldn’t place, nor did I care to. I was too busy gripping my spoon, trying to contain the emotions raging within me.I’d spent most of yesterday trying to figure out what was in that letter my father had sent to Lenora. Now, it seemed like I had my answer.An invitation to dinner. Not just any dinner, but one of these dinners—overly dramatic events where he picked apart Sophie and me like carrion. But what was he playing at? Did he know what had happened between Lenora and me? Or did they know each other? And if they did, what was their connection? Why didn’t Lenora give any indication?The questions swirled in my head, overwhelming me so much that I didn’t even realize my father had asked a question until Luka replied.“Yes, Alpha,” Luka said, his eyes snapping to me, wide and begging me to respond.I nodded stiffly, struggling to keep my emotions in chec
“No!” The word burst from my lips before I could stop it. Beneath me, I felt Victor tense. Inwardly, I cursed and scrambled off him, ignoring the ghost of his fingers skimming my waist as I pulled away. The moment my heels met the cool tile, a tight knot of tension unraveled in my chest. I could breathe again. Pleased to finally be away from him—this cruel, unpredictable man who had spent the last hour tearing into Elijah and Sophie—I forced myself to stand tall. I wasn’t a stranger to cruel parents, far from it, but Victor was something else entirely. The rage I’d felt watching him dismantle them with nothing but words, the helplessness of sitting there while he chipped away at them, had only been swept aside by the sheer audacity of his latest command. Now, my body trembled for an entirely different reason. “I apologize, Alpha,” I said, dipping my head in a show of remorse. “But I’m afraid I can’t do as you ask.” “Oh?” Victor’s voice was mild, but something in it made my stoma
“What was she doing here?” Luke muttered as we made our way up the winding steps of North Manor and to the hallway where the bedrooms were. “And what did your father mean when he mentioned a debt?” “I don’t know,” I muttered, lost in thought and worry. “Elijah,” Luka clasped a hand around my arm, stopping me. His bright grey eyes bore into me, reading every thought, every worry, every emotion hidden beneath my skin. Luka was the only person who could read me like that, well, Luka and Lenora. Who was still in the dining room with my father? My father brought her here, to announce that she would be my tutor. But that still didn’t answer the new questions that cropped up in my head, who was she? Clearly, not just a professor if she was in his ‘debt’. “Who is she?” Luka asked. “I don’t know. My father didn’t—” “No, I mean to you,” he interrupted. “I’m not blind, I could see the way you were looking at her. And in class that day—” “Luka,” Beta Sharpe’s baritone voice carried dow
“Fuck you, Luka!” She finally managed to rip herself away from him and ran toward the door. I moved toward her, but she yanked it open before I could stop her—only to freeze when she saw someone standing right outside. I looked over her head and caught sight of Lenora, standing motionless in the doorway, her expression surprised. She took a step back, eyes darting between my sister and me. “I… I’m sorry. I was just about to knock.” My gaze latched onto Lenora, scanning for any signs that she might be hurt. There were none—except her hair was distinctly unbound, like someone had run their hands through it. My jaw clenched. My wolf stirred, irritated by the sight. Sophie’s body tensed. Before she could pounce on the professor, I grabbed her arms and gently pushed her toward Luka. “We’ll talk later.” She parted her lips, maybe to scream at me or curse again, but I would never know. I walked out and slammed the door behind me, leaving only Lenora and me in the hallway. “I’m sorry,”
At first, there was nothing. Just the silence of the room pressing in on me and the heavy weight of two gazes boring into my back. Victor’s curiosity felt sharp, like the tip of a blade resting against the back of my neck, while Adora’s stare was calmer, but no less intense.Unease rippled through me.It had been a while since I’d used my abilities—really used them. Even before I’d forced myself to shut everything down, it had already stopped being second nature. My gift had become something I tiptoed around, something I feared. Now, faced with the rotting wound on Victor’s chest, I couldn’t even remember how to tap into it.Another second passed.Then another.Still nothing. No flicker of heat. No spark. Not even the faintest pulse from deep within me.I swallowed thickly, my chest tightening with panic.Victor wouldn’t give me a second chance.And if he didn’t… Jessie was as good as dead.I clenched my fists, trying to summon something—anything—but my fingers trembled instead.“I’m
I gasped and Victor stirred with a slow, rasping breath. His eyelids twitched before opening, dull whites streaked with red. Then he smiled—slow and cruel, as if he’d been expecting me all along.“You didn’t expect to see me like this,” he rasped, his voice scraping against the air like gravel against stone. Even like that he managed to sound amused. I didn’t respond.I couldn’t.My stomach churned, and something cold and slick crawled up my spine. Seeing Victor like this—pale, shirtless, and fragile-looking—should have made me feel powerful. It didn’t. It made me feel sick.My eyes dipped to the center of his chest, to the blackened, gaping wound that sat there like a festering brand. The skin around it was veined with sickly green and gray, pulsing ever so slightly like it breathed on its own.I swallowed hard. “What kind of magic could possibly hide something like that?” I whispered.He leaned forward slightly, wincing with the motion. “That’s not for you to know.”Before I could
I dreamt of Elijah that night.And I didn’t want that dream to end.It had just been us, wrapped in the stillness of that wildflower field. The warmth of his skin pressed against mine, the sunlight in his smile, the way his golden eyes had softened just for me—it had all felt so real. So safe… he’d leaned forward, hand ghosting against my upper arm, our lips were so close, barely a hairs breath away from each other…But then the sound of my phone ringing jolted me right out of that dream. I groaned, flinging my hand toward my bedside table. My fingers scraped uselessly against the surface until, finally, I found the phone and dragged it to my chest, squinting blearily at the screen in the early morning gloom.Izaak.The name alone was enough to chase away any trace of comfort. My stomach twisted as I sat up and answered before the next ring.“Professor Monroe,” Izaak’s lifeless voice drawled. “So nice of you to respond so quickly.”My face went pale with fear, then flushed red with a
As awed as I was by the sight before me—the sea of wildflowers stretching into the horizon, catching the golden light like something out of a dream—I couldn’t help but notice that Elijah had gone still. Not with wonder, but with a strange, distant vacancy. His body was here, but something in his eyes… wasn’t. I looked down at him from where he held me. “Are you okay?” He didn’t answer right away. His gaze remained fixed on the field, his features emptied of the emotion that had softened it ever since we left the library. There was a beat of silence, then, slowly, he nodded and bent to set me down. The flowers swayed gently beneath my feet, brushing my shins like whispers. The earth was soft—unlike the sharp stones and hard paths I’d expected. I glanced down at the delicate blooms, admiring the colour and fragileness of them. I looked up to say something to Elijah, but when I turned back to look for him—he was gone. Not entirely. Just… walking away. “Elijah!” I called out, hea
“You’re driving?” I heard Lenora ask from behind me. I only turned my head to the side slightly as I replied, “Yeah, it’s kinda far.” I heard her mumble something under her breath, and a smile almost graced my lips—almost. There was silence for a moment… then, “Should I be worried?” This time, I chuckled and turned around fully, regretting the action almost immediately. I could still feel the heat of her palm cradled in mine, and with her looking like that—her dark hair loose and curly, falling all over her shoulders—it was taking the little self-control I had left not to grab that hand again, yank her to me, and make a mess of what was left of her lipstick. It was such a fucking ridiculous idea to hold her hand. Lenora’s eyebrow jumped up, and she reached up to push back the errant strands of her hair that fell across her face. In the process, the collar of her shirt shifted, and I caught sight of her mark again. Irritation filled my throat. “I’m not going to hu
With the gala drawing closer and closer, I had less and less time to do anything other than sit through faculty ‘meetings’ that were really just a congregation of Evelyn’s most devout followers swapping basic ideas and acting like it was groundbreaking. Anytime someone other than her dared to speak, they were shut down explicitly—but none more so than me.Though I was silenced rather rudely most of the time, I was also the one forced to run most of the errands and do all the actual planning. When I asked why, an older professor looked me dead in the eyes and said it was because I was the newest addition to the faculty, therefore it was only right.And who was I to argue?I did as asked—made calls, ran around campus, juggled my classes and sessions with Elijah—all while enduring every backhanded comment with gritted teeth. And yet, as expected, there was no gratitude. Not from the faculty members, and certainly not from the Dean, who nitpicked everything I did.In short, I was tired. T
I was out of pills again. I pulled out the top drawer in my room and yanked out the pill bottle, scowling when I found it empty. With a curse, I threw it atop the many other bottles and took a step back, falling onto my bed. Luka had come an hour ago to grab his things. I’d considered using that time to talk to him and take Burke’s advice to “fix” it, but I’d ended up just hiding in my room while he and Neil packed. When they were done, Luka left immediately, and Neil stopped by my room to tell me in a small voice that they were leaving. He also told me about Luka’s recent issues with his father. When Neil left, I’d walked out to see what was left of Luka’s room—and it was almost nothing. A few of his clothes were still there. A few t-shirts, a pair of sneakers, a watch, a couple empty notebooks. But none of the things that really made the space his. Not the weird cactus-shaped lamp, not the horror movie posters he used to tape onto the wall with surgical precision, not the worn-o
Burke didn’t keep me in his office for much longer. Since I’d skipped previous practices and team meetings, he gave me a basic rundown for the next month—information I should’ve already known as captain. Information he’d already shared with the others.The faculty gala was coming up and, as usual, on the final day there would be a football game between our school and another college from our pack. Burke handed me the papers detailing the plays, then gave me the kind of scolding that didn’t raise his voice but somehow still made me feel ten inches tall.I took it. Quietly.After everything, I deserved worse. Any other coach would have had me kicked off the team given how often I missed practice. Before letting me go, he handed me a bottle of iced coffee—cold enough that condensation slid over my fingers—and muttered, “Fix things with Luka. Whatever the hell’s going on, it’s not helping either of you to be at odds.”I didn’t say anything in response, mostly because I didn’t know if I c
And deal with it, I did. Football practice was over, and after a short speech, Coach Burke dismissed us… or, well—everyone except me. I stayed behind, dragging my feet across the dew-damp grass as the others dispersed with laughter and shoulder bumps. I could hear Hunter’s voice somewhere in the distance, too loud and too smug. I ignored it. Coach Burke’s office was the only place on campus that felt remotely like a safe space. Cluttered with the smell of sweat, old wood, and varnished leather, it was messy in a way that didn’t ask anything of me. I stepped inside and took a long breath. The shelves were still lined with trophies from generations before me, with faded photographs of former players pinned up like aging ghosts. Medals, ribbons, a cracked hockey puck with someone’s initials carved into it—everything was packed in there. The couch was more of a suggestion than an actual seat. I opted for the chair in front of his desk, nudging aside a stray basketball with the toe